


Blackwood Heights

by Proskenion



Category: Original Work
Genre: Birds, Corporal Punishment, Gen, Historical Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Master/Servant, Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Shipwrecks, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proskenion/pseuds/Proskenion
Summary: The narrator just survived a shipwreck and got stranded on a foreign land. Looking for shelter, she meets a man who introduces himself as the Count's bird-keeper. She accepts to follow him to the castle for the night... or maybe for a longer time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Blackwood Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! 
> 
> This is the first original work I decide to post on here. This is 100% inspired by a dream I had recently and 90% of what you'll read here is actually from the dream. I just added some stuff for it to make more sense, but yeah basically that's just a dream I had... don't judge me lmao. 
> 
> Hope you'll like it! Enjoy :)

The moon is high in the sky, large and regal in the dark of night. A stingy, icy breeze blows, biting my skin. I don't know where I'm going but I keep walking, despite my shaking limbs, my burning lungs and my uncertainty. 

I still can't believe my luck to still be alive. My heart leaps in my throat when I remember the storm, the crashing waves on the deck, and that terrifying feeling that the world was ending. I remember being swallowed by the deep dark sea, convinced this ineffable terror would be the last sensation I'll keep of my miserable life. 

Surviving a shipwreck. That's not something I have put on my to-do list but I'm really happy and relieved it turned out like that and not like "tragically dying in a storm at sea with no one to remember me." My clothes are still soak wet and I'm sure my lips must be a bright blue by now. I didn't drown but I might die from cold if I don't find a shelter soon. 

I stumble up a path, teeth chattering and my whole body trembling like a leaf. When I start to despair and feel my last strengths about to give up, I notice it in the distance: a small village. I feel a new energy filling my body as hope replaces desperation. I start over with regained determination, and after a few more stumbling and one last wild run, I finally reach the village.

My joy fades as quickly as it came. Of course, in the middle of the night, the village is deserted and every door is closed. I feel on the verge of crying when I suddenly notice a figure in the shadow. I start running. As I come closer the figure slowly turn into a woman, dressed in a brown gown and with a shawl over her shoulders, auburn hair running down on it. She is holding a basket and stops in front of a door; she knocks. By the time I arrive, another woman opened the door. She is dressed with the exact same dress except it's blue, and her long black hair is tied in a pony tail, revealing a beautiful dark-skinned face. I stop near the two women, breathless. 

"Excuse me, pardon me," I manage to say after a while, still struggling to catch my breath. "Good evening ladies. I appear to be a bit lost, actually, and - I was - I'm looking for a place to stay for the night, and - and - and..." 

I shut up at the intense stare they both give me. I clear my throat. I still have difficulty breathing evenly, but that's not what's bothering me at the moment. The women keep staring at me, unblinking and emotionless. I start mumbling but their stare freeze me into place. Have they only understood me? 

The auburn hair woman abruptly turn to the other, gives her the basket and leaves. 

"No, wait! Please !" 

But the woman is gone, and the other one has shut the door behind her. I can hear the metallic sound of the locker, and then nothing. Just the silent night, and the cold breeze whistling occasionally through the sleeping village street. I fall on my knees, surrendering to exhaustion. 

"Yah lookin' for somewhere to crash, eh?" 

I spin around at the voice behind me. A tall man is watching me, a few feet away. His face is half-hidden behind a deep red scarf, protecting him from the icy wind. A small prey bird is perched on his shoulder. I get slowly to a stand, half-hopeful, half-scared. 

"Yes?" I whisper. Then, clearing my throat, "yes, I do." 

"Come then, ah can take yah to the castle." 

And he turns his back, walking away. The castle? I look up in the direction the man is going. Only now do I notice the old building, up there, hidden behind miles of trees and bushes. 

"Wait!" I call the man. "Who are you?" 

He stops and turns to face me again. 

"Look at me, forgettin' me manners! Ah'm Geoffrey, me lord's birds keeper." 

"And... who's your lord?" 

"Eh, the Count Sade Von Vanhov of course!" 

And with that, he resumes walking towards the castle. I watch him, unsure what to do. I had never heard of that Count before, and there was something somewhat spooky about this man with a bird on his shoulder and that old castle on top of the forest hill. 

"Yah comin' or nae?" Geoffrey called without looking back. 

The bird on his shoulder croaks opening his wings. He leaves the man's shoulder and comes towards me. He flies close above my head, cawing again, and goes back on his previous sit. Thinking that I have nowhere better to go, I finally decide to follow Geoffrey. 

"Who's the Count, exactly?" I ask after a while. 

"He's the Count, that's all," Geoffrey answers, giving a side glance as if I just asked the most stupid question. 

"Alright..." 

I try to ask Geoffrey about himself, then, but he either replies with one-word sentences close to grunts or not answer at all.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" 

"Nope. Canny see the point o' it." 

"Hmmm." 

The rest of the journey goes with no more words exchanged between the two of us. The more we go the more my legs really start to ache, and the only thing that keeps me going despite my exhaustion and the cold wind biting through my skin to my bones is the knowledge there's a bed waiting for at the end if the road... or so I hope. 

When we finally arrive, we're stopped by a gigantic iron gate. Geoffrey takes a key bunch out of his pocket and opens it. I realise I didn't ask what he was doing at the village in the middle of the night and I really start to wonder if I did the right thing following him. After all, I know nothing about him, not even what he really looks like, with this huge scarf around his face, and that castle looks... well, spooky. 

Geoffrey invites me to follow him inside. I bite my lower lip, not moving at first, then I comply. The gate closes with a creaking behind my back. If coming was the wrong decision, it is too late now. 

I turn to see Geoffrey whisper something to the bird on his shoulder and the instant later it sprays its wings and flies away. 

"Come," Geoffrey says. "The service entrance's up here." 

I'm about to ask why not use the main entrance, but I realise Geoffrey is a domestic and probably is used to use the service entrance, so I follow without a word. We go through the kitchen, empty and dark, and Geoffrey leads me up what seems to me an endless succession of stairs. Then, finally, we reach a door.

"Be quiet," he whispers to me before opening it. 

I follow him as silently as possible. We go up a few other stairs then along a corridor, and finally, he pushes a door open. 

"Go in here, quickly, and be quiet," he orders sotto voce, eyeing around him. 

I obey. I only get the chance to come into the room when I hear the door closing behind me. I turn around and run to it. It isn't locked. I open it, and look into the empty corridor. Geoffrey seemed to have vanished in the darkness. Slowly, I close the door. 

I look around, my eyes now used to the dark. There a fireplace but no woods inside. Pity. The room isn't big and doesn't look like it's been used recently. There's a bed, and what looks like a grand piano under a sheet. Nothing else. I go to the bed and collapse on the mattress. A cloud of dust rise instantly, making me cough. But exhaustion is definitely taking over now, and curling myself up in the blankets, I quickly fall asleep. 

*

I wake in a mist of thoughts and sensations: a scratching pain in my throat, a strong smell of dust and moist, and a feeling of light confusion. 

Then I remember. 

The shipwreck. My walk through the damp, cold night, the village, the bird keeper, the castle, and... 

I suddenly realise I'm not alone in the room. Feeling a presence behind me, I sat up and look. A tall man is sitting in a chair I hadn't noticed yesterday night, just near the door. His hair is white though he doesn't look that old, his skin being still fair and firm, and he is elegantly dressed in a full black suit. But what strikes me immediately are his eyes: blank, and white. The man is blind. 

"Finally, you're awake," he says in a smooth, low voice. "Good morning." 

I can feel my mouth open but my mind doesn't follow and I stay mute. The man awaits, and I finally manage to say: 

"Hello, erm... I'm sorry, I... your bird keeper brought me here." 

"I know," the man said, "I've heard you and Geoffrey last night." 

I swallow, uncomfortable and unsure what to say. Nothing in the man's attitude betrays what he thinks. Until now he has been watching in front of him, but he slowly turns his head towards me, his blind eyes looking straight at me - or through me. 

"What are you doing here?" he asks. 

"I - I... Geoffrey brought me here..." 

"Yes, you already said that. That's not what I asked." 

I look at him, my mouth opening ans closing like a fish out of water. He smirks. 

"Do you know who I am?" 

"You are... You are the Count," I answer, trying to remember how Geoffrey called him yesterday, "the Count Sade Von Vanhov, Sir." 

"That's my name," the Count replies with an indulgent smile, the way a teacher would do with a pupil who did not answer his question quite properly. "I am the owner of this castle, and the master of this land. You are on my property and you spent a night in one of my rooms, using one of my beds, without asking for my permission. Now, please, tell me what you are doing here." 

I look at him, abashed and awkward. I take a huge breath, gather my thought, and explain: 

"I was on a ship leaving Irymea in direction of Weren's Port, but a storm turned the boat over and we sank. I woke up on the beach nearby, I don't know if anyone else survived and I didn't try to know to be honest. Thanking my guardian angel for being still alive, I went into the mainland until I found the village, where you bird keeper found me and brought me here. I apologise if my unrequested presence offends you," I added, trying to sound civil and polite. 

A rather long, uncomfortable silence settles, during which I fidget on my spot. Then, the Count asks: 

"Why were you leaving Irymea for Weren's Port?" 

I feel like a stone falling down my stomach. This is the moment. My eyes must look like the ones of a preyed animal, and I'm happy the Count can't see my expression right now. It feels like he guesses it, though, because he smiles slightly, like he is amused. I sigh, and say: 

"I had to leave. There was nothing left for me in Irymea. I jumped in the first ship, and it appeared it was going to Weren's Port. Short straw, as it seems. The wreck wasn't expected in the equation." 

Silence again. I feel like the Count is watching me - he isn't, though, he can't, right? And yet... He chuckles slightly, and he gets up. 

"I understand you have nowhere to go," he declares. "Nothing is waiting for you anywhere, nor anyone, am I right?" 

"Yes," I answer in a breath. 

"You are welcome here, then," he says. He smiles. "But I am no innkeeper. You want to stay, you earn your place here. You want to stay, you work. Is that alright for you?"

"What kind of work?" I ask, suspicious. 

"Geoffrey and Arn will let you know." 

I think about the proposal. The man is right, after all, there isn't anything or anyone waiting for me anywhere. What will happen to me if I say yes? But if I say no, where will I go?" 

"Alright," I say. "I accept. I'll work for you." 

*

I am now in the kitchen, really enjoying the huge fire in the hearth as my clothes are still damp with sea water. There I've met Arn, the Count's personal manservant. He is a hardy man, quite short but with large shoulders, and though his skin his craggy and leather-like, his small brown eyes are soft and kind. 

"There, drink that," he says with his hoarse voice, putting a mug of some hot brew in front of me on the table. I came in the kitchen coughing and sniffing, and the first thing the man did has been to prepare me some medical potion of his own. I smell it suspiciously, but it isn't that bad. When I take a sip though I almost strangle myself because of the strong, ripe taste of it. Arn laughs.

"What were you expecting, young lady? It's medicine, not some fine fruity tea." 

I brace myself, take a huge breath in, and drink the whole thing in one go. When I'm done I put the mug down on the table and away from me, grimacing and coughing. Arn laughs again, and takes the mug to wash it.

"There, I'll make you another one tonight and you should be fine." 

I thank him, and pour myself a glass of water to wash away the awful taste. A few minutes later I was handed a bowl of warm porridge by Arn, who then sat in front of me. 

"Now, I must say I'm glad to know I'll have some help from now on. Geoffrey and I have been alone to take care of the Count, you see." 

I take a full spoon of porridge before talking. 

"And what will be my job exactly?" I ask, mouth full with another spoon of porridge.

"Well, you'll help us serve the Count. There's a lot to do you'll see. Cooking, cleaning... basic stuff. All that concern the Count personal services, like dressing up and so on, that's up to me. And Geoffrey will never let you close to his birds. But that leaves many other chores, believe me." 

"Like what?" 

"Well it's a big castle, isn't it? You'll see how long it takes to just mop the place." 

I think about this perfectly sensible remark and take another big spoon of porridge. 

"I'd like to wash my clothes," I tell Arn after finishing my bowl. "And I have nothing else to wear so I'll need change."

Arn indicates me a cupboard near the stairs where I can find some old liveries. I go have a look and manage to find a shirt and some pants that should fit. I leave the jacket to complete the uniform, though - too much for me. I change and come back to the kitchen and ask Arn for a bucket and some soap. 

When I'm done washing my clothes I put them near the fire for them to dry. That's when Geoffrey comes in. 

"Hey," he says to Arn. "What's she doin' here?" 

"His Lordship hired her." 

Geoffrey grunts and goes to sit at the table. He is smoking a small wooden pipe that he keeps between his thin lips. I study him now that his face is uncovered. His skin is a nice tan and freshly shaved. I also realise how beautiful his eyes are: a deep green, oblong shaped and with long, black eyelashes. 

"What're yah watchin'?" he asks suddenly, his pipe still stuck in his mouth. 

"Erm, sorry." 

The bird keeper sniffs. The man is a bit gruff, but I can already tell we will get along. He is the one who brought me here, after all, the one thanks to whom I slept with a roof above my head last night.

"Thank you," I say, "for last night." 

Geoffrey looks at me. 

"We'll see if yah still thank me after a day workin'," he laughs. 

"Well, good to have a bit of help, I say," Arn intervenes. "And if you're ready, maybe you should go." 

And saying so he hands me a bucket full of soapy water and a floorcloth. From the corner of my eyes I can see Geoffrey smirking. I take the bucket and the cloth and walks out of the kitchen. 

"Start with the last floor and go down," Arn recommends. "And most importantly, don't go through the big red door, it's forbidden!" 

Taking notes of the recommendations and highly intrigued by what this big red door might hide, I hop up the stairs. 

Hours later, after having scrubbed every inch on floor on every rooms aon every floor of the castle, I come back in the kitchen, exhausted and with my back feeling like it has been broken in two. Collapsing on a chair, I wonder for the umpteenth time why I accepted this job, after all. It takes me a few minutes to realise Arn and Geoffrey are both looking at me with a cheeky smile on their faces. 

"Yah sure everythin' cleaned, lassie?" 

"Most certainly sure, yes," I reply. "I feel it in each and every part of my body." 

"Have you mopped the basement as well?" Arn asks.

"What?" 

"An' the stables?" Geoffrey adds. 

"The..." 

That's when I realise they're making fun of me, and they both burst out laughing, Arn loud and cheerful, Geoffrey almost silent. 

"Very clever," I snarl, though it doesn't takes long for me to laugh along with them. 

After that we share a lunch together. Geoffrey goes away as soon as his plate is empty and cleaned up, leaving Arn and I alone. He offers me a coffee, which I don't refuse.

"Tired?" The man asks. 

"Well, yes. But it will take more to bring me down." 

"Good to hear," Arn replies with a smile, getting up. "Because there are the Count's bedsheets to change and clean, and your own room to get ready. As for me, his lordship will need me soon, I should be going. Come on, buck up!" 

I sigh at the thought of all the things I still have to do. I take the time to enjoy the rest of my coffee before going back to work. 

*

I'm woken up by a strong knock on my door. Gosh, already? It takes me a few moments to fully emerge from my sleep, and I cling to the pillow without even realising it, begging for a few more hours of sleep. 

"Come on young lady, time to get up!" 

Arn gives one last knock on the door before leaving. I groan, but eventually get up. 

Yesterday, after finishing the washing, I helped Arn with the Count's supper. When it has finally been time to go to bed, I immediately collapsed. It feels like it was only ten minutes ago, although I can see the first beam of sun through my window's shutters. I dress up, happy to wear my proper clothes and not the ones I borrowed, and I go down. 

When I arrive in the kitchen, a plate with scrambled eggs and a toast waits for me on the table. I thank Arn, who is already half through his own breakfast, and I start to eat. The eggs are perfectly cooked, and the butter on the toast is slightly salted, and my taste buds sing with joy at such a scrumptious breakfast. 

"What do I have to do today?" I ask. 

"Well, if you could shell that bucket of beans for today's lunch, that would be jolly helpful. Don't forget to soak them of course. And there's a bunch of partridges needing to be plucked." 

I nod slowly, the excitement due to the eggs and toast fading slightly away.

The door opens and Geoffrey enters. He gives me a brief nod as he comes towards the table. He throws a paper on it and goes to sit near the fireplace, his pipe between his lips. 

"Ah, good, just on time," Arn says happily, eyeing at the paper. 

That's when a bell starts ringing. Arn jumps from his seat, grabs the paper and goes away, saying: 

"His lordship needs me. Would you mind washing the dishes, please?" He adds to my intention before disappearing. 

"Is it always like that?" I ask Geoffrey. 

The birds keeper looks at me. He blows a large, white cloud of smoke, and shrugs. True, not the chattering type. I smirk and finish my plate. 

Hours later, while I'm halfway through the beans shelling, Arn arrives in the kitchen and tells me the Count wants to see me. 

"He's waiting for you in the library." 

Intrigued but not daring to ask anything, I hurry outside the kitchen, afraid of making the Count wait. But then I realise I don't quite remember where the library is, and it actually takes me ten good minutes to find my way. 

When I come in, I don't notice the Count immediately. Then I see him, seated on a large sofa, back to the door. I clear my throat to indicate I'm here, and without a move, he asks me to come nearer. I obey. 

"I apologise for making you wait," I mumble, unsure on how to address him, "I... got lost, I'm afraid." 

"It's alright. It is a big castle, it will take you a few days to register the place. Come here, in front of me." 

I obey once again, coming to stand in front of him. His white eyes look straight up at my face, which is quite disturbing. He is still elegantly dressed, with a long black coat with a purple lining. On his knees, both his hands on it, is what looks like a thin cane. 

"How are you settling in?" He asks with his smooth, low voice. 

"Good, thank you." 

"How's your room?" 

"Perfectly fine." 

"And the work?" 

"Well, intense, but nothing that I can't take." 

"Good to hear. So, do you think you're happy with your situation?" 

I don't answer straight away this time. What an odd question, not something I'm used to from an employer. I look at his unblinking face, his straight, grave demeaning.

"I think I am... content," I finally reply.

A small smile appears on the Count's thin lips and he nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. For a long moment he doesn't speak, and I start fidgeting on my spot, feeling awkward. He seems to analyse me, though he can't see me. His eyes might be blind but it is obvious every other of his senses are always on the lookout. 

"You're thinking about my sight," he finally says. 

I feel struck by that. He can't possibly hear mu thoughts, can be? 

"Yes," I confess. 

"Yes, my lord," he corrects kindly. "I was born blind. Which mean I had my entire life to work on knowing the world around me through my hearing, my touch, my sense of smell. I could recognise Arn's pace in the middle of a crowd, I can tell if Geoffrey is in a good mood or not at the way he breathes. I know every part of this castle by heart. I don't miss my sight, because I can trust everything else in me. And now I can tell you're nervous, because I can hear you twisting your fingers together. I knew you were coming minutes before you actually enter the library." 

I swallowed. It was true I was twisting my fingers nervously and I stopped as soon he said it. And knowing this man I barely know could guess things about me just by listening to the way I walk was highly unsettling. 

"There is one thing I'm completely uncompromising with," he said firmly. "Don't ever move anything from its place without my specific order. When you clean, be very careful to put everything back into its exact spot. Is that clear?" 

"Yes, my lord." 

He suddenly grasps his cane and hits the floor with it, making me jump. I realise what I took for a cane is actually a long switch. I give it a defiant look. The Count stands up, and walks towards me. I don't dare moving but I immediately tense. 

"So, do you agree to be my new servant?" 

I look at him closely. I feel like my answer to that question will seal my fate. My heart racing, I consider quickly my possibilities. Eventually, I say slowly: 

"Yes, my lord. I agree." 

The Count Sade Von Vanhov smiles at me. He offers me his hand so I take it. His handshake is firm but his touch his soft. 

"Welcome to Blackwood Heights." 

* 

After lunch I have to wash a fair amount of clothes and linen. After I finish hanging all of it out to dry, there's still a bit of time before dinner so I decide to go explore the place. I now know that the estate is named Blackwood Heights, which is perfectly sensible since it is literally standing on top of a hill in the middle of the woods. Definitely not original. 

Since I've kind of visited the castle already the day before while cleaning, I decide to go outside. I discover a very lovely park, with a large pond with water lilies and colourful fishes in it. A few feet behind the pond stands a pavilion. I wonder if the Count organizes concerts there in summer. 

My stroll leads me to the stables. I come in. It isn't big. There is hay on the floor, and a long wooden bar to which a single horse is tied up. It's a massive, majestic black horse, its hair almost glowing. Its mane and tail are luxurious and nicely wavy. I approach slowly, carefully, almost reverently. The horse watches me with a black, clever eye. It doesn't move, so I come closer. I stretch my hand and the animal makes a small move back with its head, blowing through its nostrils. I stop. But the horse stands still again, so I slowly put my hand on its neck, petting it slowly. 

"She likes yah." 

I start at Geoffrey's voice, which scares the horse who steps away from me. The man laughs. 

"Easy, Moonlight," he says softly, coming closer to the horse and petting her kindly. "Easy." 

She immediately calms down at his touch. I watch, amazed by Geoffrey's sudden softness. 

"Good girl," he whispers to the mare. 

For a moment it feels like I've disappeared, and it's just Geoffrey and Moonlight. Then, he turns to me.

"I thought you were the bird keeper," I tell him. 

"Ah'm," he says. "But ah also look after 'er. Ah like tha', she's a good beast." 

He caresses the animal gently, whispering to her. I smile, quite touched. 

"You love animals, do you?" I ask. 

Geoffrey looks at me with a frown, as if I'd said something silly or a nonsense. 

" 'course ah do, why ah wouldn't?" 

"I love them too." 

He looks at me intensely. Then he turns to the mare again and put his fingers through her mane. 

"Animals aren't like men," he says. "They're real, honest. They don't lie." 

It's my turn to look at him intensely, with curiosity. I'm intrigued by this rough looking man who is so tender deep down. I wonder what happened to him to make him say something like that. 

"I'd love to see the birds," I tell him. 

He turns to me abruptly. He studies me, as if wondering if I'm not making fun of him. He mumbles: 

"Maybe later." And then he adds, voice more assured: "Arn's lookin' for yah." 

I realise time has passed and it's almost supper time. I smile, but Geoffrey has turned his back to pet Moonlight again, so I leave him alone, going back to the kitchen quickly. 

* 

Days go by and I've settled myself in a daily routine. Cleaning, helping in the kitchen, doing laundry, more cleaning... and a little time for myself as well. 

I get along with Arn. I can see he is happy to have me here to help him. Geoffrey is definitely more reserved, it will take more time to really break the ice, but it often shows how soft he is despite his rough-looking behaviour. 

Then there is the Count. Cold, commanding, and yet always calm and somewhat kind. I don't see him much, though, and I don't know what he does of his time. 

And there is that big red door. The Count disappears behind it sometimes, but I still have no idea what's behind. I tried to ask Arn and Geoffrey but they both avoided answering in their own specific ways - Geoffrey by ignoring me, Arn by changing the subject. My curiosity increases every day but I have no idea how to make my two coworkers spit it out. 

One late morning, after I finished cutting in pieces a mix of vegetables to cook with grilled lamb legs, Arb came in the kitchen and asks: 

"What about you serve the Count's lunch with me today?" 

I look at him, unsure what to say. No doubt my facial expression must be funny, because Arn chuckles before saying: 

"Close your mouth before you'll swallow a fly." 

I obey, only realising now my jaw dropped, my lips forming a perfect, astonished "O". 

"Why?" 

"I don't know, I thought you might like it?" 

I'm not sure what to say. Scrubbing the floor, doing the laundry, helping cooking, that I know I can do. But serving lunch? I never did anything like that before. I tell Arn about my fears and he answers: 

"Don't worry, I'll be there doing the main thing, you'll just be here to give a hand. Nothing to complicated." 

I think about it and decide to accept. It might be fun after all. It will break the routine. 

So, at lunch time, I find myself standing in the dining room near the tray with all the food, waiting for the Count to arrive and Arn to tell me what to do. When the Count comes in, Arn holds his chair for the Count to sit down. He walks in, his switch caressing the floor in front of him in search of any obstacles, though he doesn't really seem to need it. Once he is settled, Arn tells him I am helping him today. I blush, thinking I would have preferred the servant to say nothing. The Count nods. 

It starts smoothly. As Arn said, he does the main work and I just help, handing him things when asked. At some point he asks me for the saucer, which is put on a sort of stove to keep it warm. I hear Arn's warning too late and when I take the saucer with both hands, I cry out in pain. The iron handles are burning. I let go, and the saucer slips, banging loudly on the floor. I jump backwards instinctively and doing so, I hit the tray behind me. The porcelain platter where the lamb legs are displayed trembles, glides from the tray, and falls on the floor. The loud crash of broken dish resonates in the room as the platter explodes in small pieces, scattering the food all over. I freeze in horror, not knowing what to do. 

In a heartbeat Arn is kneeling beside the mess trying to clean things up. I join him, mumbling apologies and shaking like a leaf. 

"Go fetch something to clear this up," the valet orders. 

Without a word, I jump to my feet and run to obey. I'm stopped by a whistling sound, a crack, and a moan of pain. I spin around and see the Count standing next to Arn, brandishing his switch.

"No!" I scream. 

The switch lends on Arn's back. I run back to them without thinking.

"Stop it!" I shout as the Count gives a third blow. "It's my fault, not his!" 

The switch is falling again, and I extend my hand. I close my fingers on it, stopping it before it reaches Arn's shoulders. It feels like time has frozen. 

"How dare you?" The Count says eventually, his voice being only a whisper. 

"I won't let you brutalise him like that," I answer firmly, "not when it's all my fault." 

The Count turns his head to me, very slowly. He pulls on the switch and I let go, with small apprehension. But the Count only puts it down.

"Serving my meals is Arn's duty. He chose to let you help when you clearly were incapable to. This is his responsibility." 

I open my mouth to answer but the Count stops me with a gesture of his hand. 

"Clear this up, and find me something to eat." 

I don't move and look down at Arn. He looks at me harshly, a look I never saw on him before. With a nod he orders me to do as I'm told, so I comply. 

* 

I'm walking nervously towards the library. After the lunch mess I caused, Arn finished serving the Count on his own. When he came back in the kitchen he told me the Count wanted to see me and was waiting in the library. 

I'm a mess of anger, fear, and frustration. I stop in front of the door and take a huge breath. I knock. The Count's voice rises, asking me to come in. 

"You asked to see me, my lord?" I say, the words coming out with difficulty. 

I only realise now how angry I am with the Count. He must sense it because when he turns to me, he gives me quite a wicked smile. 

"Yes," he declares. "I need to have a word with you. Come closer." 

Reluctantly, I comply to his request and come to stand in front of him. I glare at the switch in his hand and feel a new flash of anger. I pinch my lips to avoid saying anything. The Count takes his time, letting the silence grow awkward and charged with tension. Then he says, with an extreme calm: 

"I must say I am deeply displeased. You've been very disrespectful earlier." 

I have to summon all my self-control not to reply sharply to this. Greeting my teeth, I wait for the Count to resume. 

"I won't tolerate any lack of respect from any of my servants. And don't think because you're a young girl I won't discipline you if I judge it fit." 

Until now I had kept my face down, but hearing this makes me jolt my head up indignantly. I open my mouth to answer but the Count cut me short: 

"I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter." 

I freeze, biting my tongue to stop the words that threaten to escape my lips. I glare at the Count. There is so much I want to say. How beating Arn was unfair, how I can't stand injustice and abuse of power, and how I won't stand to be abused myself. But the Count keeps smirking, his blind eyes on me. 

"Give me your hand," he orders. "I think it was the left one." 

"What?" 

"You stopped my switch with your left hand, didn't you?" 

I swallow, instinctively looking at my hands and I realise he's right. 

"Yes," I whisper.

"Give it to me. I think three blows should do."

"I beg your pardon?" I exclaim, baffled and outraged. 

"Four blows then." 

"I won't..." 

"Should I add another one?" The Count interrupts sharply. 

Again, I pinch my lips with anger and frustration. Realising I have no choice but obey, I slowly, reluctantly extend my left hand. 

The first blow of the switch stungs like a whasp on my palm. I blink, swallowing back a moan. The second blow ends just next to where the first one landed. At the third I can't help a muffled cry of pain. The last one is the hardest and tears instantly fill my eyes. 

I immediately draw back my hand, protecting it with the other one, huddling it to my chest. When the Count speaks I barely look up, though my eyes are full with wrath when they meet his face. 

"Let it be a lesson for you. I decide when it is fit to punish anyone of you, and your thoughts about it are irrelevant to me. You will endure your punishment or the one of the other servants in silence and without protest. You may leave now." 

I don't let him say it twice. I stride out of the room, making it a point to slam the door behind me. I haven't been this angry in a long while. 

* 

I'm in the kitchen, sitting on one of the bench near the table. Arn is applying an ointment on my damaged palm, and Geoffrey is smoking next to the hearth. 

"I'm leaving," I declare eventually, firm and determined. 

Arn glances at me, but it is Geoffrey who speaks.

"Givin' up already, eh?" 

"I won't tolerate to be beaten and abused!" I exclaime, hurt by his mocking tone. 

"There is no need to yell," Arn says, putting a bandage on my hand. 

"Arent you angry?" I ask him.

"No," he answers simply. 

"He beat you!" I lash out. "He beat you for no reasons, because of something I did!" 

"Maybe I should be angry with you, then?" Arn asks provocatively, though with no malice. 

This shuts me up immediately. I lower my gaze and Arn finishes my plaster in silence. When he's done he takes the ointment and all his medical supplies and goes to put them back in a cupboard. 

"Still," I mumble, moody. "This isn't acceptable. I'm not his slave, we are not slaves." 

"What d'yah think yah know 'bout slav'ry?" Geoffrey asks sharply. 

He stands abruptly and walks towards me with his forefinger pointed at my face. 

"Don't talk 'bout somethin' yah know nothin' about! And stop whinin' like a babe." 

I swallow, impressed by his sudden anger. Geoffrey clicks his tongue and strides out of the kitchen. I turn to Arn who simply gives me a tired look before shrugging, and going away too. 

Left alone, I look around, wondering what to do. I feel a bit shaken. I didn't mean to offend Geoffrey and I don't know what I said to make him so angry. As for Arn, he looked so defeated it pierces my heart to recall his gaze. I sigh and go out. 

I don't have anything except from my old shirt and my pair of pants, so I could just walk through the door and leave. I stop. I look back, and seeing neither Arn nor Geoffrey, I go outside. I walk through the garden to the estate gate. But there's a weight in my stomach, like a stone, growing bigger and bigger as I get closer to the gate. When I finally reach it, I slowly put my hand on the knob. The iron is cold and I shiver. My eyes look up to the woods. A soft, icy breeze blows in the orange and red foliage of the trees. Clenching my fingers on the handle, I push the iron gate. 

It's locked. Obviously. It would have been too easy. I look at the gate closely, and once I'm sure I can't climb it, or the fences, I groan. I'll have to find Arn or Geoffrey so they can open the gate to me. 

But instead of going back inside, I wander around the park. I go back to the pond, watch at the fishes. Fallen leaves fly inside the pavilion behind, carried by the wind. I relax, somehow against my will. I must admit Blackwood Heights can be very peaceful, and have somehow started to feel... familiar. 

I walk past the stables, but a simple look inside tells me no one's here, except from Moonlight. So I keep walking. Behind the stables is a nice garden, with vegetables and fruits. And finally, after that, is the aviary. It's huge, more like a small house in itself, with a caged garden. I carefully walk towards it. I smile when I see Geoffrey inside, looking peaceful amongst the birds. I come closer and watch until he notices me. 

"Still here?" He asks abruptly. "Thought yah'd be gone by now." 

"I tried to, but the gate is locked." 

I smile to him, but to no avail. For a long moment he ignores me, focusing on the birds. But as I don't go he asks: 

"Wha' diyah want?" 

"I... don't know." 

And then I realise I do. Sheepishly, I apologise for my scene earlier. 

"I didn't mean to upset you." 

Geoffrey shrugs, without caring to answer. One of the birds come to sit on his shoulder, soon joined by another one, and a third sits on his head. I've never seen him so calm, happy. His eyes smile, shining with pure joy. Suddenly he turns to me. 

"Wan' the keys?" 

"No, I don't think I do." 

He extends his free arm to receive another bird on it. 

"They don't seem upset by yah," he says. 

I take that for a sign he accepted my apology and that we're good again. I ask if the birds have names. He stares at me for a while then nods. The bird on his head flies away. 

"What kind of birds are they?" 

"Doves. And the prey birds're over here." 

He gestures to another aviary, or more like a small park with fences and a roof. 

"Can I come in?" 

"Nae." 

I chuckle. He glances at me and shakes his arms softly, and the birds fly away. He comes out to join me. 

"Yah don't wanna leave then?" 

I don't know what to say. I'm still cross, and I'm confused. 

"I don't know what I want." 

Geoffrey smirks. 

"Yah think 'cause the master got mad at yah he's a bad fellah. He's no'. Yah dunno wha' real abuse is." 

I look at him with curiosity. Is he trying to open to me? To say something?

"Do you want me to stay?" 

He doesn't answer. Instead, he looks at his feet, looking moody. I sigh. 

"I... I don't think I want to leave you, or Arn," I admit. "You made me feel welcomed here." 

Geoffrey still avoids my gaze. I smile, looking down too. The more I think about it, the more I realise that, maybe, I actually want to stay. I look to Geoffrey again. 

"Why did you get so upset, earlier?" I ask. "What happened to you?" 

He glares at me, defiant. 

"Why did yah leave home?" He asks back instead of answering, taking me aback. 

"I... it's... I couldn't stay." 

I can see at the way he looks at me that it's not enough. If I want him to open up, I have to do the same. 

"I was sentenced to death," I finally spat out, feeling like I had to pull the words off my throat. "So I jumped in the first ship I found and escaped." 

Geoffrey looks at me intensely, scanning me, as if pondering if I just told the truth or not. Eventually, I can see his shoulders relax as he exhales. The moment after he unbuttons his shirt until his chest his revealed. Just below his left collar bone is a huge scar representing an intricate symbol. I frown, mouth opening in shock. 

"D'yah know wha' that is?" he asks. 

I shake my head slowly, though fearing to actually know the answer. 

"Ah was a slave for more than ten years. Me first master bought me when I was twelve." 

I swallow hard. He buttons up his shirt and gives me a harsh look. 

"Ah know wha' vicious masters're like. Ah've known abuse." 

"I'm sorry," I whisper, shaken. "I'm so, so sorry..." 

"Don't be. 'Tis over now. Ah'm a free man, and the Count's good to me." 

I want to cry, but I have the feeling that my tears would offend Geoffrey so I swallow them back. Instead, I try to smile. He snorts. 

"Come on, lassie, let's go back inside." 

* 

Arn, Geoffrey and I are chilling after a long day of work. Geoffrey is smoking, Arn's telling stories of his childhood in the village, and I'm listening, sitting on the floor and my back against Geoffrey's legs. I couldn't feel better. 

I remember when I wanted to leave weeks ago and I can't comprehend how I could have just thought about it. There has been no more incident of the kind since then, and I'm even starting to appreciate the Count. As for Arn and Geoffrey, I think I can now call them friends without lying. 

"Well, now I'll go to bed," Arn says eventually. "I'm to go out with the Count early in the morning." 

"Where to?" I ask. 

"Ah, somewhere important," Arn answers, before leaving the kitchen. 

I look up at Geoffrey. The man simply shrugs. Fine, I should know by now he is not the one I'll get answers from. 

In the morning when I come downstairs, I found the kitchen empty. I make myself a quick breakfast before going to do my chores of the day - which includes mop the whole place. 

After hours of scrubbing I start to feel my arms and back ache. But I'm almost done so I hurry so I can then take a huge, well-deserved break. I stand up and grab my bucket when my eyes fall on the red door. I look at it for a while. I tried to make Arn tell me what's behind but he always managed to avoid answering. I wonder what can be so secret. Can the Count's business this morning have to do with what's behind that door?

I glance around, and when I'm sure I'm alone, I go to it. I stop when I have my hand on the handle. I wonder if it's wise... I shrug. It must be locked anyway. I push the handle. My heart skips a beat. It isn't locked! Heart pounding, I push the door open. 

I enter the room slowly, eyes widened. The room is quite dark, but not enough to prevent to see clearly. It's huge, with a high ceiling painted in white like the walls, and with archways like in a cathedral. But what really catch the eyes are the numerous, intricate machines. Stills, tubes, cauldrons and the like, all made in copper and bronze. All massive, connected to one another. And in the back, enormous glass jars. I come closer to them, and...

"Candies?" I say aloud, utterly surprised. 

"I wondered how long it would take you to come here." 

I spin around and find myself face to face with the Count, smiling at me. I mumble apologies, or what I'd like to be apologies, but only incoherent sounds come out of my mouth. The Count raises a hand to hush me. 

"What do you think it is?" 

I'm taken aback by the question. 

"I'm... not sure," I answer. 

The Count snorts. He comes closer, his switch caressing the floor in front of him to detect any obstacles. My first reflex is to step back, but I refrain myself. 

"This is a factory," he tells me once he has joined me. "I thought you would have been able to see that." 

His sarcasm and mockery stings. I pinch my lips and spit out: 

"Yes, I can see that. So, that's your big secret? You're making candies?" 

He laughs. 

"I'm not making candies. I'm making the best candies in the world." 

I raise an eyebrow. This man is so confident. He must have sensed my reaction because he snorts again before saying: 

"You're doubting me. Well, please, go have a try." 

I hesitate. But as the Count insists I go to a jar and take a yellow, round candy. When I put it in my mouth, I can't help letting out a sigh of delight. I never tasted anything as good as this. I can hear the Count sneer behind me. 

"I told you so," he says proudly. "That's why I had to leave early this morning, I negotiated a new trade with a far away country. Soon enough, those candies will be everywhere." 

I look at him in silence. I have a hundred questions but I don't dare asking. And to be perfectly honest, part of my brain just want to take another candy and it doesn't help me thinking properly. 

"Now," the Count says, "I'll ask you to leave this room and go back to your work. Let's just pretend I didn't catch you on the spot somewhere you definitely shouldn't have been." 

I swallow hard and thank the Count before going out quickly. 

I was hoping to find answers by pushing that door, and it only gave way to more questions. I'll have to have a talk with Arn... if he agrees to answer my questions.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading ! 
> 
> So I know that ending isn't a proper ending, but that's where my dream stopped, so I thought I would stop here and ask you to tell me what you think and what you'd like me to write next, if you want me to write more at all. Just be aware I won't write romance or smut for this story ^^' 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, I beg of you ;p


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